Defining Merci
by Kitten Little
Summary: While working on a case in Las Vegas, Dr. Spencer Reid discovers that a missing girl is his half-sister. He forces himself to make the hardest decision in his life. Will he be the first person to trully care for her?
1. Chapter 1

**Mer-cy (mur-see) compassionate or kindly forbearance shown toward an offender, an enemy, or other person in one's power; compassion, pity, or benevolence**

Las Vegas, Nevada

Merci Reid adjusted her clothes nervously. The fourteen-year old clenched her fake ID so hard she practically dropped it. Her best friend passed her a beer. "Come on Merci. You look like you've never seen a beer."

She ran a finger around the rim of the bottle. "I'm fine Gretchen. Just nervous."

"Have a little fun, girl. Come Monday we'll back at school. Now's the time to be careless."

"My mom tries really hard to pay for me to go there. Not to mention that I'm three or four years younger then the other seniors. If we get caught…"

"You'll lose your partial scholarship. I know. Don't be a baby. You'll still graduate this year."

"Suspected geniuses don't survive public school easily. Not to mention an alcohol caused black-out can cause some serious memory impairment. I'd like to keep as much of my intellect as I can, thanks."

"All right. We'll go home then." She drained Merci's beer and they started down the street. "Speaking of geniuses, have you thought about contacting that half-brother your mom keeps talking about?"

"I haven't even contacted my father yet, Gretchen. Do you honestly think I'm going visit the FBI my first week in DC and demand to see Spencer?"

"You know his name now?"

"It's called Google. And yes. I do. He's an FBI agent."

"Meaning he probably knows about you."

"He's a behavioral analyst. I highly doubt he'd bother to look me up. Reid has to be a common enough last name."

"Not with an I it isn't," Gretchen replied. "And born in Vegas, I doubt it."

"Look, he's a doctorate. A freakin' twenty-seven year old doctorate. I don't even know if I want to go to Georgetown now anyway! Full scholarship or not!"

Gretchen turned so she was walking backward. "Come on, Merc. You're like all super brain. You need to get out of this town."

"And you're totally running my innocence. I mean, you're buzzed."

The girls were starting to get closer to a bad end of town. A couple of the men were whistling at them. Gretchen leveled with Merci, grasping her arm. "I think I'm gonna sober up fast."

A white van stopped beside them. "Yo, Gretchen! I mean Megan! You need a ride?"

Merci looked to her friend, wide-eyed. "I don't know…"

"Don't be a baby," her friend said again. "Hey, Blake. Merc, this is the guy that gave me the cards. A friend of my brother's."

Merci's eyes were locked on the woman's. "And her?"

"That's Vanessa. She's harmless. Come on, let's go. Nothing bad's going to happen I promise."

FBI BAU Quantico, Virginia

"Two girls went missing in Las Vegas about ten hours ago. A month before another two went missing. The bodies of the first two, Margret and Jennifer Fuentes were found blocks from where our most recent victims were last seen." The pictures of the first two were replaced by two others.

"Gretchen Johnson, seventeen and Merci Reid, fourteen, were last seen in a bar under the names Megan and Anne."

"Why did it take ten hours for them to contact us?"

"We were only just contacted because they just discovered that the girls all went to Bishop Gorman High."

"Are you saying there's a killer targeting this particular school?"

"We're not sure, but even if we have a month, Gretchen has asthma. She left her inhaler at home. If she proves to be useless to the kidnapper, he could kill both of them and strike again."

"Plane leaves in thirty minutes," Hotch said, walking out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Consequently, most of us really exist at the mercy of other people's formulations of what's important.**

**June Jordan**

Outside Las Vegas

Merci woke up on a mat, tied at the ankles and the wrists. She stayed quiet, trying to hear Gretchen or some hint of where she was. She still had no idea, but any piece of information could help. This day, she couldn't hear her friend, but she did hear their captors.

"She's the quietest one we've had so far. She doesn't fight and last night she didn't even whimper," Blake whispered. "She's probably the one we've been looking for."

"But she's younger then the others. We both know that that's more dangerous," his female partner replied. "Her body might not be able to handle it."

Merci knew they were talking about her. She had no idea what they were planning to do to her. What was with the others? Was it more then just her and Gretchen?

"Look, baby. We'll convince her I'm only hurting her because we need something from her. Maybe if I pretend to care…"

"Well, try it out already!" the woman ordered. "I'll dispose of her friend."

The door opened so Merci quickly closed her eyes. Blake knelt beside her and untied her wrists. "Come on, sit up," he said gently. She blinked and did. He untied her ankles. "How you feeling?"

Too frightened to talk, Merci just shrugged, rubbing her ankle.

He started rubbing the other. "It's okay. I don't think I need to keep you tied up anymore. You're a good kid."

Merci pulled her feet away from his gentle touch. "What do you want?"

Blake took her hands. "It's alright, Merci. I'm not going to hurt you."

"What do you want?" she repeated. "I'll do whatever."

"Is there someone you call?" he asked softly. "To tell them you're alright?"

Merci shook her head. "I can't remember my brother's phone number."

"You have a brother?" Blake asked softly, pushing some hair away from her face.

"Dr. Spencer Reid. I think he's a college professor," she lied. "But he lives in DC."

"Let me look to it up, kid. You can call him. It's not like he'll be able to find you. I better get to work."

Las Vegas Police Station

"I'm SSA Hotchner; this is SSA Prentiss and Dr. Reid."

The police chief looked at the young man. "You any relation to the missing girl?"

"Not that I'm aware of," he said simply. "Where do you want us to set up?"

"Right through there. Where's the rest of your team?"

"Crime scene."

Suddenly, Reid's phone rang. "Dr. Reid."

"Spencer, it's your father."

"Hi," he said cautiously, "Why are you calling?"

"I heard rumors that the FBI was working the missing girls' case."

"We just got in. Do you have some information?"

"You study the victims too right?"

"Yes, of course. Is Merci a cousin?"

"No," Will Reid said slowly. "She's your half-sister."

Hotch and Prentiss looked at him and Spencer wondered what his face looked like. Was his surprise and horror obvious?

"Is something wrong?" Hotch asked.

"Spencer, are you there?" Will Reid asked. "We need—"

"I need to get back to work," he interrupted. "Call me back if you need anything, okay?" With that, he hung up.

His two colleagues were staring at him. "Is something wrong?" Hotch repeated.

Spencer Reid exhaled. "Merci Reid is my half-sister."


	3. Chapter 3

**I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice.**

**Abraham Lincoln**

Merci stared at the phone in Blake's hand. That was her lifeline. "You found his number?" she whispered.

Blake was smiling. "I don't break promises, Merci. Just let me talk to him first okay?"

She nodded, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "Thanks."

He rubbed her check. "Don't cry, Merci. He'll think I hurt you."

"You did hurt me," she whispered.

He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "Not because I wanted to. We need you, Merci. Don't ruin this for us." He kissed her forehead. "Please."

"What do you want from me?" She didn't move from his touch, scared she'd anger him.

One of his hands moved down to her waist line. "You'll find out, kid." Then he pulled back. "I'll call your brother now."

Merci exhaled, bracing herself. _Come on, Dr. Reid. Pick up._

"Hi," Blake said in an altered voice. "I'm looking for Spencer. I have Merci."

"Yeah, she's fine. You wanna talk to her?" He passed the phone to his captive. "Take your time, kid, but don't say too much. We'll leave when you're done."

"Hey, Spencer," she whispered into the phone. "It's me." Any excitement of finally talking to her brother was muted by her fear.

"Where are you?" he asked warily. "Where's Gretchen?"

"I don't know but I wanna go home," she whispered.

Spencer Reid didn't reply right away. "Has he hurt you?"

With that, she started sobbing. "I'm scared, Spencer. You gotta help me. I don't know what they want from me."

"Breathe, Merci. I'm in Vegas. We'll find you, I swear. Just hold on, okay?"

"Are you going to hang up? Please don't leave me."

Blake forced the phone out of her hands. "That's enough, Merci. We have to go."

"Lair!" she screamed as he pressed the off button. "You said I could have as much time as I needed!"

Blake pressed a hand over her mouth. "I don't want to hurt you, kid. Relax and you can go home in a year. Fight and Vanessa might ask me to kill you. I don't like killing little girls." He dragged her to her feet. "Time to leave."

---

Spencer Reid sank into his chair, exhausted. "Can this day get any worse?"

Hotch ignored the comment. "They're on the move and Merci doesn't know where Gretchen is. Garcia, have you traced that call?"

"Give me a second," Garcia said. "Disposable, but I do have the nearest cell tower. They're still in Las Vegas."

"But for how much longer?" Spencer said cryptically. "I really think I need to talk to my father. I'll leave my phone on."


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm afraid we live at the mercy of a power, maybe a God, without mercy. And yet we find it, as I have, from others.****  
****Philip Levine**

_I'm scared, Spencer. You gotta help me._ Spencer couldn't shake the girl's words from his mind. She was depending on him to find her alive. It was an odd feeling. He had never had more family then his mother. Everything was different now. Statically, it was unlikely that Merci would survive if they didn't find her soon. He wasn't going to tell her—their—father she might be dead, but he decided to tell him they'd spoken.

Will Reid opened the door. "Spencer, I'm glad you came."

"Merci's alive," he said quickly.

"She's alive…" the other Reid replied.

"As of ten minutes ago, yes. She called me."

"What did she say? I've never talked to her."

Spencer gulped. "She's scared, but judging by her words, she's not alone. There are at least two unsubs. She's also still in Nevada."

"My little girl is still alive," he mussed. "I've only known about her for a few months, but I still feel connected. Maybe it's because her mother is dying."

"Elena Jacks is dying?" Spencer replied, shocked. "Why isn't that in our case file?"

"I'm honestly wondering who's going to die first. Elena's in the hospital. The neighbor reported Merci missing."

Spencer's phone rang. "Reid."

"They just found Gretchen Johnson's body."

---

Dawn—Day Two

Merci didn't sleep in cars, but she did close her eyes this time. Her glasses her gone, so she was trying to heighten her other senses. Blake held her head in is lap, petting her hair. All she could sense was him. His breathing and the smell of soap flooded her nose and ears. She wiggled, trying to get him to move.

"Morning, sleepy head," the young man whispered.

She sat up, pretending like she was tired. They were moving slower and it sounded like the road was gravel. "Where are we?" she asked, panicked.

"Shut up!" Vanessa called from the driver's seat. "You're only here because Blake likes you. If I had my way, you'd be rotting like your friend."

"Gretchen's dead?" Merci sobbed. "NO!"

Blake held Merci's head to his chest. "Relax, Merci. You know I won't let her hurt you."

"I just wanna go home!" she wailed. "Please!"

"Shshsh," he comforted. "You're okay. Trust me."

---

"Face it Reid, she's probably dead. They probably killed her right after she called."

Spencer broke his foam cup, staining his wrinkled shirt. "I promised I'd find her."

"Now we need to find her kidnapper," Morgan replied. "Make him pay."

"Her name is Merci. I can't expect them to pay horribly. It feels like an insult to her memory."

"You don't even know her. There's no obligation and they've killed three other girls."

"She's my sister," Spencer said, suddenly feeling enraged. "It's not my job to break that connection."

"I know, kid, but if you let emotions get to you, it might cloud that genius mind of yours."

Spencer nodded. "You're right. I need to focus on finding her as a victim not as my sister. I owe her that much."


	5. Chapter 5

**Human judges can show mercy. But against the laws of nature, there is no appeal.**  
**Arthur C. Clarke**

Merci stared at the phone, trying to remember the Blake dialed. She was originally going to call 911 but she was more comfortable talking to her brother. There was no sense in her thought. She barely knew him.

Making sure her captors weren't coming up the driveway, she grabbed the phone. The dial tone was comforting, but as soon as the number came to mind, she dialed.

"Dr. Spencer Reid," her brother flatly.

"Hi, Spencer," she sobbed with relief.

"Merci?" he affirmed. "Let me put you on speaker."

"Gretchen's dead."

"We know."

"Is the rest of your team there?" she asked.

"Merci," a voice she didn't recognize said. "My name is Aaron. Can you tell me where you are?"

"Blake and Vanessa left me in a house. I'm on a land line. We drove 'til dawn. Can you trace me?"

"We're working on it. Where are Blake and Vanessa?"

"They went to get food."

"I got her!" The voice sounded like it was coming from another phone. "She's still in Vegas. They were trying to distract her."

"Stay on the line, Merci," Spencer said. "We're coming."

---

Spencer heard a scream and then the phone went dead. One of Merci's kidnappers must have come back. He swore internally. "Drat! She's gone." They were driving as fast as they dared, but Spencer though it wasn't fast enough. His sister could be dead. They pulled into the driveway of the house in question. The cries of "Clear" were music to his ears, but the first few rooms were empty. His eyes kept gravitating toward a door he presumed led to a bedroom. He nodded to Morgan and they opened the door.

A woman, most likely Vanessa, was holding a gun to Merci's head. "Come any closer and I'll kill her."

"Vanessa," Morgan said as he aimed his gun. "You don't want to kill Merci. She has her whole life ahead of her. She has parents and a brother. She's just like any other girl her age."

The gun moved to Merci's back. "I went to medical school," Vanessa replied. "I know exactly where to hit to paralyze her."

Merci's face went blank and then turned sympathetic. "It makes sense now. You've been trying to have a baby," she whispered. "That's why you've been taking girls. You've been looking for the perfect mother. That's why Blake said I could go home in a year. You chose me.

"I understand the principal of wanting to have a baby. What it means to have a chance to pass on those quirky little traits everyone has. But Vanessa," she craned her head a little to look the woman in the eyes. "You can't fight nature. For some strange reason, you can't have kids. You didn't have to tell Blake to hurt girls to get your baby. There were other options."

Spencer was mildly surprised by how quickly Merci discovered Vanessa's motive. He struggled to keep a straight face. "Merci isn't your solution. Let her go."

Vanessa did and girl fell to her knees in surprise. Morgan quickly disarmed the woman and Spencer helped Merci to her feet, pulling her from the room. Merci was shaking, bruised, and bleeding. "I think we need a medic!"

She had very little strength and was gripping onto Spencer's arm with enough force to bruise. "Are you Spencer?" Her voice was so quiet, he barely heard her.

"Yeah. I'm Spencer." The medics' started to look her over, and Spencer stepped back.

As the ambulance drove away, Hotch said, "Go, Reid."

**And Now, A Message From Your Writer:**

**Hey, folks! I was wondering if guys would be able to help me with an essay. We are to choose a group we were a part of and ask people questions about being in the group. I am conisdering writing about FanFiction writers (interesting topic no?) Anyway, if you want to help, say so in a review! I will actually reply! I promise!**


	6. Chapter 6

**If you believe, as the Greeks did, that man is at the mercy of the gods, then you write tragedy. The end is inevitable from the beginning. But if you believe that man can solve his own problems and is at nobody's mercy, then you will probably write melodrama.****  
****Lillian Hellman **

Merci's eyes were heavy with tiredness but she didn't fall asleep. She knew her mother was in the hospital too, so she had to wait for Spencer to finish some paperwork. It hurt to think about Gretchen and her own injuries. It hurt worse then the physical pain. No one had asked her what happened yet. Blake had turned himself into the cops and probably told them everything. In Merci's mind that was better that way.

Spencer came in. "It's late. We'll be here for a while longer. Get some sleep."

She nodded, blinking a few times. "Don't leave," she muttered groggily.

He squeezed her hand. "I promise."

---

Spencer ran his fingers through his hair. Elena Jacks was dead and he didn't have an idea how to tell his baby sister. They said it was a heart attack and unrelated to the cancer. Of course, he had also discovered that is father had lied. Will Reid had sighed off his parental rights shortly after Merci was born. Merci was considered an orphan. Spencer had seen unsubs the foster care system created and he had no intention of letting that happen to his sister, his blood.

"Are you sure about this, Reid?" Hotch asked. "Raising a child while working at the FBI can be straining. With everything Merci has been through, it may be better for her to stay here."

"What am I supposed to tell her? 'I'm sorry, but your mother's dead and I have to get back to work?'"

A small voice broke in silence. "Mom's dead?" The skinny girl with the ash-colored hair stood opposite them eyes wide with shock. "When?"

"Right after she learned you went missing," Spencer whispered, averting his gaze. "I'm so sorry, Merci. I should have told you sooner."

"It's not your fault. You didn't know her anyway."

Reid looked at Hotch, begging him to tell what to do with his eyes. Hotch's expression was, as usual, unreadable. Reid took a shaking breath. "Merci, I'm—I am in the process of trying to become your legal guardian. Are you okay with that?"

She blinked. "You're what?"

Spencer sighed. Merci must have thought it was a horrible idea. "You're fourteen and I'm your only relative. I know it means moving to the East Coast, but I don't know what else to do."

"Do I actually have a choice, oh mighty dispenser of provisions?"

"My name," Spencer explained to Hotch. "Came from a surname which meant 'dispenser of provisions' in Middle English." He turned to Mercy. "You really should be asleep. We'll talk in the morning."

---

Merci screamed at dawn, waking in a cold sweat. She wished she just forget everything. She ran her hand down her face and leaned back again.

Spencer had woken and his hand automatically came to his side, as if reaching for his gun. "What's wrong?"

"It was just a nightmare," she replied. "Sorry to wake you."

"It's nothing to be sorry about," he muttered. "It happens to the best of us."

"I wish I could just forget," she sighed. "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," he replied. "In all honesty, I do. An unsub took me once." He rolled up one of his shirt sleeves.

Merci's eyes nearly popped out of her head in surprise. Those looked like drug scars. "You're a…"

His tone was calm. "Recovered addict. Dilaudid." He quickly covered his arm back up. "How long have you been drinking?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Before Blake and Vanessa took you, you were seen at a bar with a fake id. As your legal guardian, I can't let you do that. How long have you been drinking?" His tone grew urgent. "I need to know, Merci."

"You don't know me, Spencer; it's not a problem." In reply, her tone grew harsh, defensive. "Honestly."

"Youth who start drinking before age 15 years are five times more likely to develop alcohol dependence or abuse later in life than those who begin drinking at or after age 21 years. I'm worried."

They were slient for several intense seconds. "I guess I should apologize for profiling Vanessa for you."

Spencer took her hand. "It's okay. You were brave. You even managed to find the motive when we didn't have a suspect."

"How did I do that any way? I wasn't lying or anything. What was I doing?"

"You were probably acting on instincts," he stood. "Let's see if we get you out of here, okay?"

**And Now, A Message From Your Writer:**

**Thanks to everyone who has offered to help me with the essay I'm working on.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Kings in this world should imitate God, their mercy should be above their works.****  
****William Penn**

A Month and a Half Later

Merci stared at the computer screen in silent, painful shock. She didn't need to read it again; she wasn't likely to forget it, even without Spencer's eidetic memory. She read it again anyway.

_A Las Vegas court dropped the charges on a couple accused of four counts of kidnapping and three counts of murder. Blake James and Vanessa Reeves' lawyer reportedly proved that the prosecution had no case without the testimony of the fourth victim._

That's all there was. Two sentences. No turn page, no on-going investigation, nothing. This was all she had, other then the nausea that had been creeping up on her. She hit the Escape key angrily.

"You're M.J. Reid right?" a boy said, slipping into the chair beside her. "From AP Calculus?"

Merci had started going by her initials to keep people from discovering her past. Spencer still called her Merci, but even the adults she knew used her new identity. She nodded, hair falling across her face. "Yep and you're Dez Chester. It's short for Desmond, I presume."

"Good guess. Your full name, on the other hand, is a complete mystery."

"And it'll stay that way, if you don't mind. What do you want?"

"You don't have any friends here, do you?"

"What is with men and always wanting to control the subject?"

"I was going to ask you to a Halloween party my parents are throwing. They seem to think I should have a date."

Merci looked back at her computer screen. "I should warn you, I'm only fourteen and my brother works for the Federal Bureau of Intimidation. I'm not exactly girlfriend material."

"Oh really?" the young man asked, skeptical. "What's his title?"

"Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Why are asking me now? Halloween isn't for another two weeks."

"Wanted to get to know you."

After five silent minutes, Merci said, "I'll go, but I need a favor."

---

Spencer stood, pulling out his phone. He dialed Merci's number quickly.

"You've reached M.J. Sorry I missed you. Leave a message." Then the phone beeped.

"Hey, Merci, it's your brother. We have a case in Texas. I'll be home as soon as I can. Call me when you get home, okay?"

As he slid the phone back into his pocket, J.J. said, "Don't be so worried. M.J. can handle herself."

"This is the first case that's been this far away since I brought her here. What if she gets hurt?"

"She's just like you, Reid. She'll avoid any situation that will lead to trouble."

Spencer's phone rang instantly. "Reid."

"Hi, Spencer," Merci replied. "Do you have a case or something?"

"Texas. Behave yourself, okay?"

"Duh," the girl replied. "Oh, and can I hang out with a friend today? There won't be any drinking."

"What's her name?" he asked warily.

"His name," she corrected. "Desmond Chester. He's in my AP Calc class. He invited me to dinner. His parents will be there."

"How long have you known him?"

"How long have I lived here?"

"Call Garcia if something happens, understand?"

"Got it, go to work." The younger Reid hung up.

**ANAMFYW:**

**This will not be the last we see of Vanessa.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Let us eat and drink neither forgetting death unduly nor remembering it. The Lord hath mercy on whom he will have mercy, etc., and the less we think about it the better.**  
**Samuel Butler**

"You're sweet, Dez, but you don't have to sit with me. I just wanted you to tell me where I could go."

"They don't ask questions when the boyfriends are here. Plus, I figured you could use some comfort."

"Miranda Johnson?" the woman at the door to the back room asked.

That was Merci's fake name for this little outing. She looked to Dez, scared. Dez kissed her hand. "Go ahead, M.J. I'll be here when you get out."

She nodded and quickly stood. She took a big breath and kissed his cheek. "Thanks."

---

Spencer's cell phone rang and he saw the number of Merci's school. "Reid."

"Yes, hello, Agent Reid. I'm Coach Hill, your sister's gym teacher."

Spencer struggled to stay calm. He hated having to worry about his sister. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes." The teacher sounded harsh. "I'd like to know why she skipped my class."

Spencer cursed. "Great. This is exactly what I asked her not to do. Do you have any idea where she might be?"

"There's only one other student that only missed sixth period," the teacher replied slowly. "But I can't imagine him doing something to a fourteen year old."

Spencer paled. It was happening again. His sister had been taken. "Who is he, Mr. Hill?"

"My stepson, Dez."

That was name of the boy Merci had mentioned. "As in Desmond Chester?"

"Yes—" Spencer hung up before the teacher could explain and quickly dialed Garcia.

"Alter of Eternal Knowledge, state your business mere mortal."

Spencer's voice cracked. "Garcia, its Reid."

"What is it, baby?" Garcia asked. "You sound upset."

"Merci skipped her gym class," he spoke quickly. "She—s—she was talking about a guy earlier. He—he may have—"

"Relax, Reid," Garcia ordered. "How long as M.J. been living with you?"

Spencer didn't understand the lack of panic in Garcia's tone. "We're going on the second month."

Garcia laughed. "Reid, she's probably having girl problems."

"Girl problems?"

Prentiss walked past him and then stopped abruptly. "Really, Reid. I thought you were a genius."

"What?" Reid was hopelessly confused. "I don't understand."

"What's wrong, Reid?" Morgan teased.

Although it was faint, they could all hear Garcia's voice. "M.J.'s having girl problems and Reid doesn't know what I mean."

Morgan laughed. "It's obvious that you don't date, kid. M.J. is probably on the dot."

"The dot?"

"Her period, Reid."

Spencer turned red. "She's men—menstruating? Oh. I can't talk to her about—" His voice wavered. "How am I supposed to?—I don't know what—" He sat down. "I guess Hotch was right. I can't do this. Let's hope she comes home safe."

---

"My stepdad called while you were back there. He called your brother."

Merci sunk onto the curb. "I'm dead." Her head was light and spinning.

"Hey, come on," Dez said, sitting down beside her. "There's nothing to be scared about. I'm sure your brother will understand."

"You don't know who I am, Dez. You don't know why I asked you to help me. What I asked you to do was really dangerous. That's why I'm glad you stayed."

"Then tell me, M.J. I'm all ears." Her phone rang and he answered. "M.J.'s phone."

"Dez!" Merci tried to take the phone back. "Come on! Don't be a jerk!"

Suddenly, Dez's face fell. "Yes, sir." He put his phone over the mouth. "It's your brother's boss?"

"Hotch or Agent Rossi?"

Dez shook his head. "Derek Morgan."

"Agent Morgan? Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. He doesn't want to talk to me." Dez shrugged and handed her the phone.

Morgan didn't even let her ask. "You've completely scared the shit out of the entire team, kiddo. Where are you?

"Why didn't Spencer just call me?" she grumbled. "Why you?"

"Because he's scared to ask, kid. Where the hell are you and who answered the phone?"

"Desmond Chester. I needed someone to talk to. You know what happened to me, Agent Morgan. Do you honestly expect me to keep it a secret forever?"

"Just be careful who you tell, kid and stay safe." He hung up.

"Who are you, M.J. Reid?" Dez mused as they walked down the street.

"You really wanna know?" He nodded.

"My name is Merci Johanna and I was born in Vegas. Even though he signed off on me, I still have my father's last name. Mom insisted that I acted like a Reid and not related to her at all. 'The Reids are smart, Merci' she's say. 'I barely finished tenth grade. You don't want to be like me.' Mom was always tried to make more money. She was a bar tender. Last year, when I was a junior she discovered that she had stage 3 liver cancer.

"She finally told me about Spencer, my father's son. I was mad at her mostly so I started hanging out with one of the borderline bad kids. Gretchen got me a fake ID and we started going to bars. I needed an outlet for my problems, you know? Just before school started, we were walking home. This guy in a van pulled up and I woke up tied up."

"You were kidnapped?" Dez whispered. "Oh god. Baby, I'm sorry."

"The guy's girlfriend couldn't have kids so they were looking for the perfect surrogate. They killed all the others. There were at least three others, two other girls that went to my school and—" Her voice cracked and she started sobbing.

"Gretchen." Dez pulled her to her feet. "Come on, let's get you home. I don't want Agent Morgan to kick my ass."

**ANAMFYW:**

**Longer chapter, but I have to say something. I may have to take up the rating. In a few chapters, I'll be talking about addiction and more nasty stuff. This piece seems to be becoming darker and darker as I work on it. Consider yourself warned.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Let us rise in the moral power of womanhood; and give utterance to the voice of outraged mercy, and insulted justice, and eternal truth, and mighty love and holy freedom.****  
****Maria W. Chapman**

"You didn't mention your father yet," Dez said the following morning.

Merci shrugged. "Not much to say. He left, my life is crap. That's it."

"And you actually met your brother the day you were rescued from Vanessa? Talk about fate."

"I don't believe in fate."

"Really?" Dez asked. "I thought you said you thought you were Catholic."

"I am. Just because you believe in God doesn't mean that you believe in fate. I have free will and I'm not going to blame by problems on Him, ya know?"

Dez shrugged. "I guess."

---

Spencer sat opposite Merci's guidance counselor. "Thank you for coming in to see me, Dr. Reid."

"Of course, Miss um…"

"Petria Alberti but please, just call me Pete. The students do."

Spencer felt the heat rise to his face. He wasn't comfortable with speaking to women yet. "P—Pete, of course. Um, what do you need?"

"This is about Merci."

"Is—is there something wrong?"

"No, of course not." The woman smiled. "Your sister is brilliant, Dr. Reid. I haven't been working here long, but I do know that. Unfortunately, the students don't seem to agree with me. They're oddly suspicious. It also doesn't help that she hangs out with Dez Chester."

"I've been hearing that name a lot. Who is he?"

"Basketball coach's stepson. Doesn't look it, but he's good kid. He really seems to genuinely care about people. I think that's why they've become friends. They both needed someone, but that's not why I asked you here."

"Why then?"

"I want Merci to graduate at the end of the semester, not at the end of year. I want you to talk to her about it. We may even be able to give her her diploma now."

---

"Whoa." Dez motioned down the hall. "When did Pete get a boyfriend?"

"Damn!" Merci's eyes widened at the sight of the young man talking to the guidance counselor. They were laughing and joking. It was borderline flirting. She pulled Dez into a nearby empty classroom. "That's my brother."

"The FBI BAU brother?"

"Duh!" Merci replied in a low hiss. "He's the only brother I have. How much trouble do you think I'm gonna be when he gets off work?"

"Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll get called on out on a case."

"In the middle of day? Luck is right. That's practically improbable. Unless they get a missing persons. 90% of all missing persons die within the first 36. The odds are bleaker if it's a kid, but I can't remember the exact numbers off the top of my head."

"You survived, didn't you?"

"My brother's an FBI agent. Of course I was found. Idiot." She playfully slapped the back of his head.

"Hey," Dez said, rubbing his head. "Not everyone has an IQ of 165."

"Right, my brother's IQ is 185. How could've I forgotten?"

"You're jealous of her brother's intellect."

"No," she replied. "I'm gonna go a completely different direction. I'm gonna go to Med School and be the other type of doctor. Or if that doesn't work, try to become a nun. Don't know I they'd accept me with how messed up I am."

"Dr. Reid, MD. I can imagine that. Sister Reid, not so much."

"I've always gone to Catholic schools therefore it's always been an option."

"You're devoted?" Dez said in surprise. "For some reason, I can't see that."

"Not devote, obviously, but my mom was. It's just a back up plan."

"Meaning your dateable?"

"Remember I have ties to the Federal Bureau of Intimidation," she warned again. "No, I'm not dateable. Likeable, yes, but not dateable. We're just friends. Okay?"

"Whatever." Merci didn't notice the disappointment on his face. "It doesn't matter either way."

The bell rung, they jumped, and ran to class.

---

"Merci, can we talk before you go to bed? I know it's late, but this is important."

Merci scratched her head and yawned. "I really gotta start going to bed before you get home," she muttered.

"I've been trying to leave earlier but paperwork isn't allowed out of the building."

"Whatever." She sat down. "What's this about? Blake and Vanessa or the fact you were flirting with my guidance counselor?"

Spencer turned red. "I—I wasn't f—flirt—flirting. She just wanted me to ask you want you were planning for your future."

Merci rolled her eyes. He had asked her this nearly every time he didn't know what to say. "Med School. We've already covered this."

"I thoughts that's what you were planning. She wants you to graduate at the end of the semester."

"My Georgetown scholarship doesn't come in to affect until fall. What am I supposed until then?"

"It's your choice but I do want to meet Dez Chester if you stay in school."

"Whatever. I'm gonna go to bed."

That's when he realized he had upset her. As she slammed the bedroom door, he called out, "I'm only going this because I care!"

There was no reply.


	10. Chapter 10

**Lord, Bless our enemies; have mercy upon them, may they turn their course and let us alone, and let us live in peace at our homes in our own native land.****  
****William Pennington**

Merci didn't move from the over the side of her bedroom door. She was both scared and amused by Spencer's words. He cared about her. She was just annoyed at the idea of him not trusting her. Dez was harmless and he already knew everything. Merci knew better then to trust everybody. She fell onto the bed and into a restless sleep.

"_You got rid of my baby!" Vanessa screamed, holding a cold gun to Merci's head. "You told me you understood!"_

"_No, I didn't," Merci whispered. "I said I understood the principal."_

"_You owe me my baby bitch! I let you live!"_

"_The baby wasn't yours, Vanessa. I can't have a baby. I'm supposed to be a doctor, not your living incubator."_

_Vanessa cocked the safety back and Merci screamed as the gun boomed._

"Merci, wake up!" Spencer shook Merci. "M.J.!"

Merci gasped and sat up, desperate for air. "NO! I DON'T KILL ME!"

Spencer wrapped her in a hug. "It's okay. Sh. It's okay. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

She put her head on his shoulder. "I know that they dropped the charges," she whispered slowly.

Spencer didn't know what to say to that. "I'm not going to let them hurt you, Merci. You're safe."

---

"God, M.J., you look like you've been through hell. When did you sleep last?"

"Last night, kinda. The nightmares won't stop."

Dez handed Merci an iced coffee. "You look like you need this."

She took it and took a slip. "My personal savior."

"Who, me or the coffee?" Dez asked.

"The coffee," she said with a laugh and another sip. "Yummy. How'd you know I liked chocolate mint?" Before Dez could reply, Merci heard a whisper.

"Did you hear about M.J. Reid?"

"Yeah, I heard she's a piece of work. Something about getting pregnant by a twenty-seven year old. Dez was nice enough to take her to a clinic."

Merci stared at Dez, mouth in a thin line. "I trusted you." She stood, dumped the drink on his head and walked out of the school.

Twenty minutes later, Dez found Merci walking to God-knows-where. "M.J., talk to me."

The girl threw his arm off her shoulder. "Go away, Desmond."

"Come on, M.J. I'm sorry. It just came out. I'm sorry." He grabbed her shoulder again. "Just listen."

She tried moving but his grip was tighter. "Let go of me, Desmond."

"Stop and listen, M.J.," he replied. "I'm protecting you. I'm a source around here. Some sought be out, looking for you. I think it was Blake."

Merci hadn't told him Blake's name. She suddenly felt light headed. "What are you trying to do to me?"

He forced her to face him. "DAMN IT, MERCI! I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU!"

Merci felt a prick on her side and blacked out in Dez's arms.

---

Spencer's cell vibrated that night and he answered it before it started ringing. "Merci?"

"No, this is Petria Alberti. Is M.J. missing?"

"Pete, thank goodness." Under normal circumstances, he would have been nervous while talking to the high school guidance counselor. Right now all he wanted was information. "Have you seen Merci today?"

"This morning she was in the cafeteria with Dez, but when I called her to my office once class started, I was told she wasn't here. I called in Dez and asked him if he knew anything, but he shook his head. They had a fight and she walked off."

Spencer's phone beeped in another call. "I have to go. That might be her." He answered the second call. "Merci?"

"I wish," Garcia replied. "I have some information on M.J.'s boyfriend. He's eighteen, born in Nevada and has a strong juvenile record. He's been in and out of foster homes all over the country until his mom got clean and married Merci's gym teacher."

"What about his father?"

"Prison. Kidnapping." Garcia paused for a moment. "Oh no. My poor M.J."

"What is it?"

"Vanessa's last name was Chester before she married Blake. Dez is her younger brother. Kidnapping runs in the family."

**I am mean to my OC. If she was real, she'd hate me.**


	11. Chapter 11

**May we not succumb to thoughts of violence and revenge today, but rather to thoughts of mercy and compassion. We are to love our enemies that they might be returned to their right minds.****  
****Marianne Williamson**

Merci didn't even bother to open her eyes. The familiar pressure of her glasses wasn't there and she could feel the ropes around her wrists. She knew exactly what to do. _Act small and insignificant so they don't see you as a threat_, she ordered herself. _Try to force them to understand that you're human._

"She's awake," an unfamiliar voice said.

"I know. She's not very good at acting like she isn't paying attention."

The second voice scent panic up Merci's throat. It took a lot of strength not to scream. Vanessa had found her. This time, she was unlikely to survive. She had an abortion and the man wasn't Blake. The baby motive probably no longer applied.

"Are you sure your baby bro gave the clinic the money to botch the termination?"

"He better have."

Merci heaved, bile coating the inside of her mouth. She coughed, trying to clear the taste. It was a sign that they weren't lying. They took her because she was still pregnant. The only person she had trusted since the first kidnapping led to her second kidnapping had turned that trust around.

"And if he didn't?" the man growled.

"I'll make her take a test and if it comes out negative, we'll talk about it."

Merci sat up. _Small and insignificant. Small and insignificant_, she repeated over and over again. "Excuse me," she whispered, opening her eyes.

Both of their expressions changed on the spot. "Hey, sweetie," Vanessa said softly, looking right at Merci. "How ya feeling?"

"A little sick to my stomach." She kept her voice level and soft and avoided eye contact. She needed to be exactly what Vanessa wanted. She needed to be a willing surrogate mother. "And I can't see. But I guess that's normal when I forget my glasses."

Vanessa looked to her partner. "Why don't we pull into that gas station and let Macy go to the bathroom? She probably needs to stretch and get something to eat."

He grunted and kept his eyes on the road. "Sure, Van. The kid's been good." He pulled over into a run-down gas station. "What do I need to get her?"

"Stick to juice and maybe half a sandwich if they have them. I'll take her to the bathroom."

Merci was pulled out of the four door and her arms were untied. "If anyone asks, you're my sister."

_Play along, Merci. Stay alive._ "Got it," Merci replied with a nod. "Sis."

Vanessa pushed her into the outdoor bathroom and handed her a plastic bag and a box. It was a Clear Blue Digital Pregnancy Test. Merci stared at it in shock, but she read the instructions quickly and followed them. As she washed her hands in the crumbling sink, Vanessa stepped in. "Well?"

Merci handed the test to her. "I think it needs to sit a little."

Vanessa forcibly pulled Merci's hair back and cut the pony-tail off. "We can't die it of course, but we can keep you in a hat."

Merci took the burnt-orange beanie from Vanessa's bag and tucked her now short hair under it. She casually sat on the cabinet, ignoring the creaking sound it made. "You went to med school, right?"

"I've always wanted to be a pediatrician," the woman replied. "I had to know how to have my baby." Vanessa's fake smile turned honest when she looked down at the test. "It's positive."

It was a fact that Merci could understand, but didn't want to dwell on. She quickly changed into the cargo pants and sweatshirt, throwing her skirt in the bag. "Thanks for the new clothes and the place to stay."

Vanessa was still unfazed by how calm Merci was. "Just as long as I get my baby."

"Of course." Acting like she wanted this seemed insane to Merci's mostly logical mind. Her instincts where telling her what to do in this instance. She had to think like them. If she got out of this mess, she'd have to study why she figured out how to survive this. There _had_ to be something in her subconscious telling her what to do. "It's not like I can raise a baby."

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. "You two okay?" the gruff man asked.

"It's positive!" they said in perfect unison and then both broke out in laughter. Merci's deceit was still undetected.


	12. Chapter 12

_And First, A Message from Our Authour:_

_Sorry it's taken so long. I've been in and out of the hospital. I'm having serious memory problems and I'm blacking out and shit. Hopefully, my brain will start working correctly again and I i'm remember to keep posting._

**Amnesty ****is as good for those who give it as for those who receive it. It has the admirable quality of bestowing mercy on both sides  
****Victor Hugo**

Spencer stood out by the car as Hotch headed to the garage filled with the sounds of heavy metal. Pete had asked around the school and discovered where Dez and his few friends spent their time. "Reid, we technically weren't invited to work on Merci's case. They ruled it as a runaway."

"I know Merci," Reid replied. "She has a plan for her future. She wouldn't run away."

"We all know that." Hotch closed the distance and knocked on the garage door. "FBI, open up!"

A boy poked his head out a side door. "What do you want?"

Hotch pulled out his credentials. "I'm looking for Desmond Chester."

The volume of the music lowered and there was the sound of stomping. Two more boys stepped out. "I'm Dez. What's up?" one asked, hands in his pockets.

"I'm Agent Aaron Hotchner with the FBI," Hotch repeated. "I need to ask you some questions."

"Oh." The boy's face flashed with recognition and then false horror. To the casual observer he would have looked concerned, but both profilers were watching carefully. "Please tell me this isn't about M.J."

"M.J.?" Hotch inquired, even though he knew who the boy was referring to.

"Merci Johanna Reid. She's my girlfriend. Well, she _was_ my girlfriend. We had a big fight yesterday and she disappeared. I tried calling but she won't answer her phone. I considered calling her brother but I figured she just didn't want to talk. She didn't come to school today."

"Yes, this is about Merci. Is there anything I need to know about? Maybe what you were fighting about?"

Dez looked at his friends nervously and they walked away. "Merci's pregnant," he whispered. "And it's not mine. We haven't be together that long."

Spencer visibly reacted to that comment by leaning on the SUV. Vanessa and Blake had gotten what they wanted from Merci. Since they hadn't been charged, they could have contacted Dez and found Merci. That had to be what happened.

"Do you know where Merci may have gone, Desmond?"

"Her mom's dead. Her brother is never home. She doesn't have anywhere to go," he let out an exaggerated sob. "I should have told her she could stay with me."

Hotch looked over to Spencer and nodded once. Spencer walked up to them. He waved a little. "This is Agent Reid. Merci's brother."

"Do you know what I do for a living, Desmond?" Spencer asked, struggling to stay calm.

"You're a BAU agent," Dez replied. "Someone who analyzes serial crimes to figure out who did it. It's not always accepted but it's pretty accurate even in different cultures. Too bad you don't know enough about Merci. Maybe you'd be able to find her."

"You're right, I don't know Merci well, but you're also wrong. My sister does have somewhere to go. If I had to get a different a job to help her I would."

"You're trying to convince yourself, not me," the boy replied.

Spencer couldn't deny that the boy was right again. "You're good, Dez but—"

Hotch's phone vibrated and he stepped back. "Hotch."

After several seconds, he started for the SUV. "Reid, we have to go. They found Blake Oliver's body right in front of your apartment complex. They've decided to call us in."

---

Spencer carefully shifted through the evidence with Prentiss. Suddenly the other agent whispered, "Has Merci told you who her patron saint is?"

"No. I never thought to ask. I'm not sure how to discuss religion with her. Why?"

"This was found in Blake Oliver's hand." She carefully lifted the broken gold chain from the evidence bag. "Is it hers?"

"It could be. I've noticed that her hands tend to go to her neck when she gets nervous."

"The question is why did Blake come here? Why return it two months later?"

Spencer stared at the necklace. "We determined that Blake was the submissive personality. He admitted to not wanting to hurt the girls but Vanessa wasn't strong enough."

"But he didn't admit to hurting them. That's probably why the chargers were dropped. Without Merci's testimony, the defense claimed there was no case."

"I can't figure out how they proved it," Spencer muttered, blaming himself. "I shouldn't have told Merci she couldn't testify."

"Maybe you should go home, Reid. You look worn out," J.J. said, poking her head into the space. "We'll call if we need you."


	13. Chapter 13

**Computers are like Old Testament gods; lots of rules and no mercy.**

**Joseph Campbell**

Unknown Hotel Room, Unknown State

Merci's senior picture flashed on the television screen and she fought the urge to turn it up. "The search for fourteen year old Merci Reid continues tonight with a candle-light vigil. Merci's half-brother FBI Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid spoke in a press conferance this morning."

Spencer stood nervously in front of camera and microphones. "My younger sister Merci disappeared yesterday. I have been taken off the case, but I've been assured that Merci's case in the best hands. As of now, there are no connections to her two-day disappearance in August. I want Merci to know that I'm not mad about your actions. Whoever you're with, wherever you are please come home."

Merci stood up and turned off the television. She knew Spencer was lying so Vanessa and the man didn't suspect that they knew who she was with. That's what she would have done. They were some much alike and it annoyed her.

Vanessa walked into the room and stared at the upset girl. "Hey, Macy. What's wrong?"

Merci smiled faintly. She took a deep breath and didn't even lie. "I'm nervous." Although about what she didn't say.

Vanessa closed the distance between them. "Oh, sweetie. You don't have to be scared. What's happening to your body is a miracle." She put a hand on Merci's stomach. "You're going to be alright." She pressed the other hand to her face. "I promise."

Merci nodded once. "Okay."

"You need to stay relaxed. Stress won't be good in a few months. Go back to bed."

---

Reid Sibling Apartment

Spencer was shaken a little by his lie, but he knew that it kept Merci safe. If Merci was pregnant, Vanessa needed her alive for at least another seven months. He poured another cup of coffee and smiled to himself. Since Merci had come to live with him, they were going through the caffeinated beverage twice as quickly. He looked into Merci's room and thumbed through her closet looking for god-knows-what.

He noticed the Merci didn't own a single pair of jeans or slacks. All but one skirt where about knee-length and all her shirts were modest. There was a small pile of college catalogues stacked on the bedside table and a diary. He opened it, slowly. He had to read it to see if it would help. The first entry was from June.

_June 13__th_

_Mom told me about a man named Spencer today. He's supposedly my half-brother. He's a genius of some sort, maybe even smarter then me. I think she told me so I'd have someone to look up when I go back East. Gretchen noticed that I was shaky over the past few days. I admitted to Gretchen that my mother was dying and I didn't know my dad._

_Surprisingly, she didn't laugh. She bought me a beer and told me to tell her all about it. I'm not sure if I should be drinking at all. I know the statistics and what it'll do to my brain, but I can't help myself. Gretchen is the first friend I've had in a while. It's nice to be accepted._

_June 17__th_

_Some guy made fun of me at the bar. I think it's because of the way I dress. I guess I don't dress like a bar goer. Anyway, Gretchen tricked me into singing tonight. Either the listeners were __**really**__ inebriated or I was actually pretty good…_

Spencer read at his normal speed, until one entry caught his eye. The day before Vanessa took her the first time.

_August 29__th_

_Mom's in the hospital again and this time I don't think…_

The green gel pen was streaked here, as if Merci had cried over the words. He could still read them clearly, but it was like he could feel her pain.

_I don't think she's going to make it. I need to call Spencer but I can't get his number. FBI people are apparently unlisted. I considered calling our father, but he signed me away. I guess I don't blame him. Everyone makes decisions and I shouldn't let his affect me. He's going to regret not knowing me._

The period at the end of the last sentence was darker then any he had seen her write. It was almost aggressive and showed how sure she was. She wasn't going to let their father get to her. He smiled. She was defiantly determined, just like he was. He was going to find her, even if it was the last thing he did.

There was a knock on the door and Spencer answered it. Morgan stood on the other side. "You've been moping, Reid."

"She never finished unpacking," he mumbled. "Why didn't try to get to know her?"

"They're not going to kill her Reid. She has something they need." Morgan followed Spencer back into the missing girl's room. He touched the worn guitar case. "Does Merci play?"

"I'm not sure. She wouldn't touch it. I think it was her mother's."

"You'll have to ask her when she gets back."

Spencer didn't tell Morgan he didn't think Merci was coming back. They both already knew.


	14. Chapter 14

**The quality of mercy is not strain'd, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. 'T is mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That in the course of justice none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy.**

**William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice**

Spencer splashed his face with water. His nightmares had changed from bodies he had seen to Merci's. Her abdominal skin was stretched and cut open. He could hear a baby crying, but no matter how hard he looked, he could not find the child. It reminded him of Riley Jenkins. If there had been a washing machine in his nightmare, he was sure the baby would have been behind it.

It was late but someone knocked on the door. He carefully looked around the door. "Hello?"

Petria Alberti stood on the other side. "I know I should have called, but I needed to know if there was any news that hasn't been on the news."

Spencer shook his head, letting the woman in. "We think we know who did it, but we can't spend all this time on one case. I've been staying in the office so I'll be the first to know if there's a decent clue."

"Is there hope?" the guidance counselor ventured softly.

"We think we know the motive, but if Merci miscarries…"

"M.J. was kidnapped because she was pregnant?" Pete replied, putting her hand over her mouth.

Spencer nodded, fighting tears. "It's the same woman who asked her husband to rape Merci in Las Vegas. If Desmond Chester hadn't lied about that clinic, she'd still be here."

"Why would Dez Chester do this to a little girl?" Pete sat on the sofa. "He seemed sweet."

"The kidnapper is his sister. I wish I knew more than that, but he has a lawyer."

---

He had fallen asleep holding Merci. Merci suppressed a disgusted shiver. Unlike Blake, this man smelled of alcohol and marijuana. Elena smelled like this when she came home from work sometimes but it was never this extreme. Merci's eyes focused on a half-empty bottle of Scotch and she wondered if she'd feel comfortable if she had just a sip. She's take a hangover, dead brain cells, and a slow mind over this fear any day.

Then she shook her head, trying to remove the thought. Spencer had warned her that people who drank alcohol under the age of fifteen were five times as likely to become addicted later in life. She didn't realize 'later in life' meant before she even _turned_ fifteen. Or maybe she was already fifteen. There was no way to tell if Halloween had passed.

Not to mention that drinking would hurt the baby and Vanessa wouldn't like that at all. She needed to stay healthy, if not for her case, for the baby. She wasn't going to keep it, but it was a life. It was half her. It didn't matter that the other half was monster. Nurture was just as important as nature.

The man exhaled heavily, drenching Merci's senses with the stench of decay. This man was no Blake. He was dirty and pungent. Merci gagged and suddenly gained enough strength to throw his arm of her and ran to the hotel bathroom.

The bathroom floor was cold on every inch of Merci's bare skin, but all she could focus on was vomiting. Once her stomach was empty, she had a brilliant idea. She quickly prayed for forgiveness as she ripped a map page out of the Gideon bible. She looked around for a pen and found one. It was dry, but even the tip could write a message. She poked thumb with her ear ring, just hoping someone would be able run a crayon over the message.


	15. Chapter 15

** Too much mercy... often resulted in further crimes which were fatal to innocent victims who need not have been victims if justice had been put first and mercy second.**

**Agatha Christie**

A Week Later—Halloween

Johnny, age 3 found a piece of shinny paper under the hotel bed. As he colored the page with his green crayon, he yelled, "Mommy, there's a funny red thumb print on this paper!"

Johnny's mommy took the piece of paper and looked at the partial-message the boy had accidentally revealed. "Oh my god." She quickly took the crayon, finished the message and called 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"I have a note here. I think it has blood on it."

"What does the note say, ma'am?"

"Someone named Merci is in danger. They're going to kill her."

"Does it say who has her?"

"No, all it says is 'they'. There's nothing here about a location, but it says to call the BAU. Is this the Merci that's been on the news?"

"Stay on the line, ma'am. Law Enforcement will be there in a moment. Is there anything else on this note?"

The woman turned the note over and screamed. It was covered with blood droplets. "What if this little girl is dead?"

---

"We need to get that finger print to Garcia," Morgan said. "It sounds like M.J, but we need to make sure. 'My name is Merci and I need help. Not only do they have me, but if I can't do what they want, they're going to kill me. I don't know where they are taking me. Call the BAU.'"

"I didn't know what BAU stood for," Johnny's mother said. "So I just dialed 9-1-1. I thought the missing girl from DC's name was spelled M-E-R-C-I, but I wasn't sure. Is that from her?"

"Yes, ma'am," Morgan replied. "I know her handwriting. I had to read her diary."

"Do you work with her brother?" the woman asked.

"Yes. SSA Reid and I are on the same team. He took today off because it's her birthday."

"Will you find her?"

"Mrs. Raymond, you should ask for another room. If we need anything, one of us will call." The woman took her son to the office right as the night manager walked out. Morgan pulled out two photos, one of Vanessa and his personal copy of Merci's senior picture.

The young man yawned. "Why do I need to talk to another one of you? I told the blonde lady the guy paid with cash."

"Did he have anyone with him; maybe one of these two women? The girl, her name is Merci. She's been missing a week. Have you seen her?"

The clerk nodded. "The older one I know I saw. If you cut off the little one's hair and threw on a hat, it may be the guy's sister. He called Macy, like the department store. She looked sick and wouldn't look at me."

"Did you ever think that she was scared not sick?" Morgan demanded. "That note had blood on it. She could be dead, man."

"How was I supposed to know who she was?"

"You could have asked her."

"I didn't mean…"

"I have to tell her brother." Morgan grabbed the skinny man and lifted him off the ground. "You don't want me to be the one to find her dead."

Hotch had to pull Morgan off the hotel employee. "Morgan, there's no blood in the room. We have no proof that she's dead."

"Reid can't handle loosing the kid, boss," Morgan replied. "He blames himself for this. He thinks that if he had forbidden M.J. to see Desmond Chester, she would still be here."

"M.J. is a strong girl, Morgan. She'll go down fighting if she has to."

"No one has taught her what to do in these situations. If they take another girl, she won't be able to help both of them."


	16. Chapter 16

**Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.**

**Psalms 23:6.**

Later that Night

Merci stared at the younger girl, cursing Vanessa and the man. She looked about eleven. Why did they need an even younger girl? "Hey, I'm Macy," she whispered. "What's your name?"

The girl whimpered, "Where are we?"

"I don't know." Merci untied the girl. "But I think we're in Vermont. Why are you in costume?"

"It's Halloween, stupid," the girl replied. She shivered. "I'm cold."

"That means today's my birthday. I'm fifteen." Merci took off her sweatshirt and slipped it onto the other girl. "It's okay. What's your name?"

"Fawn, I'm eleven. Why is your face all bloody? Have they hurt you?"

"I'm fine, kid. As long as they beat me up, they won't beat you. You're probably a back up. You don't even look old enough to have your period."

"And you're skinny as hell."

"Dang, you have a mouth. Look kid, these people usually abduct girls in pairs. I got away once, but they found me again. But as long as you don't meet someone connected to them on the outside, you should be okay. If you can get out, go. Got it?"

Fawn, looking more frightened then Merci had ever felt nodded in silence.

---

Merci quickly discovered that Vanessa didn't seem to be aware of little Fawn. The man would take her somewhere and then Vanessa would show up. "You know what he's doing to her, right?" Merci demanded of the older woman.

"I don't care, as long as he's happy. I won't be a single mother."

At the word mother, Merci's hand automatically went to her stomach. The skin was surprisingly tight. "What if he starts hurting the baby instead of Fawn or me?"

"What do you know about raising children?" Vanessa replied. "How old are you anyway, twelve?"

"Fifteen," Merci retorted. Any speck of the charade she had been doing to keep herself alive was gone. "You won't get away with this. I'm outta here." She left the shocked woman sitting on the bedroom floor and headed to the basement.

---

"MACY!" Fawn screamed. "HELP!"

"Don't hurt her, you jerk!" Merci charged the man as he reached for Fawn. She knocked the big man to the floor and screamed. "Run, Fawn!"

"You bitch!" the man roared.

Merci closed the door, locking the man inside the little prison. "Fawn?" she whispered.

"Outside!" the girl yelled back. "Where are we?"

Merci slid out the door, automatically locking the door behind her. "I don't know. Stay close; we need to find the main road."

"Where are we?" Fawn repeated. "This isn't Boston. There's no city anywhere."

"Last week I was in Maine. Before that it was Virginia. We could anywhere. I'm not even sure we're still on the Eastern Seaboard. You've been missing at least three days. We could even be in Canada."

"I don't have a passport. We can't be in Canada."

"Trust me, Fawn. Not having a passport wouldn't stop them." Merci heard wheels on the gravel road. It wasn't a familiar vehicle. She waved her arms. "HEY!!"

The car skidded to a stop inches from them and the person behind the wheel cursed. The woman beside him got out. "Damn it, Justin! Can't you see these girls are hurt! Help me!"

Merci suddenly felt dizzy. She put her hands on the hood of the car. "Help her first," she muttered. "I'm going to be fine."

"Whoa, kid," the man said. "No offense, but you look like shit. I'm a paramedic; let me look at that cut." He gently took her chin, turning her face toward his. "How old are you two?"

The tiny flashlight practically blinded Merci. "She's eleven. I'm not sure how old I am. I was taken pretty close to my birthday. I'd guess fifteen."

"Taken?" the woman practically screamed, "As in kidnapped?! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" The woman tried to dial a number on her cell phone. "Damn it! No service!"

Merci's dizziness suddenly increased greatly. She closed her eyes, trying to fight the urge to totally pass out. The last thing she thought was:

_I'm not sure if I'm safe._


	17. Chapter 17

**A man gazing on the stars is proverbially at the mercy of the puddles in the road.****  
****Alexander Smith**

Reid hadn't expected his phone to ring in the middle of the briefing. He wasn't even aware the ringer was on. He muttered a quick apology and stepped into the hall. "Reid," he answered flatly.

"Spence," a small voice whispered. "It's me."

"Merci?" he said a little louder then should have. He barely recognized her voice. He was trying to tell himself it was a joke.

Suddenly, the entire team was in the hall. He was at a complete lost for words. "Let me talk to her," Morgan ordered.

Still in shock, he did.

"M.J., baby girl, this is Agent Morgan."

---

_Agent Morgan! _Merci thought joyfully. "Uncle Derek!" she replied, surprised by the juvenile excitement in her tone and title she gave the guy she barely knew.

"Where the hell are you, sweet cheeks?" he asked.

"Some hospital in the middle of nowhere. Should I tell them who I am?" She was fighting back panic. "I've been pretending to be her sister for weeks. What if they come back for us?"

"Us?" he replied flatly. "How many more?"

"Somebody name Fawn. They've already called her parents—and the cops. What am I supposed to do now, Uncle Derek?"

"Tell them who you are. You _are_ safe. Remember that," he paused for a moment, as if pondering what to say next. "I bet I can make you laugh, kiddo."

Merci couldn't help but smile. "Spence is pretty much in shock?" she guessed. "Trust me, I didn't mean to escape this way."

"You're surprisingly calm for someone who just survived two weeks in captivity. I'm putting you on speaker, baby girl."

The phone beeped and Merci heard her brother speak again. "Merci," he repeated with a sob. "Merci?"

"Yeah, Spencer," she repeated again. "It's really me."

"You're alive."

Suddenly she heard the very faint words of Garcia, "What's going on up here? Start the fun without me?"

"Garcia!" she said as loud as she dared.

"Is that my mini genius? Oh my god, you found her. Baby, where are you?"

"Some small town hospital, I have to go, the doctor's coming," she hung up.

---

Spencer had barely noticed the coldness is Merci's voice. He was too busy trying to figure out how she got away. "Why didn't she tell us the name of the hospital?" he whispered.

"She's probably scared out of her mind, kid. M.J.'s been through a lot. J.J., are we all desperately needed on this case? Merci—and you, Reid—are going need most of us here."

"She sounded fine." Reid's voice cracked. "Maybe she'll be different from other victims. She _has_ to be fine."

---

**Okay, so this was short, I know. But right now I preoccipued. So instead, I'll tell you what else to read. I have a friend that's on here too. Her user name is AJ Edwins. It's been a while since she's udpated and she doesn't like Criminal Minds *Gasp*, but she and I have similar writing styles. Go bug her and she might actually update!!!**


	18. Chapter 18

Merci looked completely different then the last time she was in the hospital. Her hair was dramatically shorter, even shorter then Spencer's. It was badly cut, almost as if they had just cut off her pony-tail. She was already dressed in normal clothes, a baggy pair of cargos and an orange T-shirt. She slid off the bed and landed softly on the balls of her feet. "Hey, Spence."

"You shouldn't be moving," he replied. "Your arms are covered in bruises."

"What's a few more ruptured blood vessels?" she retorted casually. "They didn't break anything else."

Spencer was shocked by the obvious and radical change in Merci's attitude. "Merc, what did they do to you?"

She shrugged. "I don't really want to talk about it," she was still casual, but she slid back onto the bed. "When can we go home?" Her feet where bare, dirty, and swollen, but she didn't seem to be in pain. She slammed her fingers into her back pockets. "I need to go back to school."

Then Spencer realized she was avoiding eye contact and her face was pale. "Merci," he put his hand on her shoulder. "I know some people who have experience in helping victims deal with these things. If you need help—"

"I don't need help," she interrupted, curtly. "Last time I tried to talk about what happened, you told me I couldn't go to court. They took me again. Your methods don't work with me, dufus. Oh, and may I have some shoes?"

He really didn't remember Merci being so outspoken. If he hadn't been looking at her, he would have sworn she wasn't really his sister. "I can't believe you're not taking this seriously, Merci! I mean look at you! You're cut and bruised and…" She still was looking or listening to him. "Damn it, Merci, you're a child! I've seen unsubs that have gone through the same things you have! I can even imagine what's going on in your head!"

"Stop acting like you're my father, Spencer!" she screamed back. "I'm fifteen, not one of your suspects!"

Spencer blinked. "Merci, I—I didn't think—I mean—I hadn't meant to imply that you'd become a serial killer. I just don't want you to keep this inside."

She was still angry, "How long did you keep that thing with Tobias Hankel a secret, Spence?!"

Although Spencer didn't know how she knew the name he replied, "Merci, I…"

"Don't try to apologize, Spencer! I watched a man molest a girl that's only four years younger than me! I just miscarried! How am I supposed to keep people from thinking I'm even more of a freak!?" She started sobbing. "Oh my god, you just made me confess. It's like I'm one of the people you've had to interrogate." Her words had grown quiet, as if this little revelation had drained all her anger. "Omigod. Omigod."

He reached for her, a motion that he hoped was comforting. "Merci…"

She scooted to the other side of the hospital bed and stood back on the floor. "I don't want to be analyzed, Spencer! I just want to normal for once, a stupid little girl whose main problems are finding a boyfriend, getting a driver's license, and going to prom!" Then she slid to floor, practically collapsing under the weight of two weeks of captivity and fear.

He walked over to her and squatted in the small space between the bed and the wall. He patted her head. "Come on, M.J. Let's get you home."


	19. Chapter 19

January

Merci dragged her feet as she walked to the front of the lecture hall. Her Anthropology 100 class had nearly 250 students in it and she slipped through them unnoticed. The professor had already left the classroom, but had left behind the results of their first essay. Merci approached the Q-R pile.

"Reid, right?" a young man asked her. She nodded and he passed her the paper. "Aren't you a little young for college?"

Merci ignored the question and practically flew from the classroom. She didn't talk much anymore, not after she gave her statement to the police. She paused long enough to glance at her score. Despite the large green 96 on the top of the paper, there was a note from the professor. "Please see me."

She didn't visibly or internally react to the note. It was just there. She flipped to sources to make sure everything was in order. It was. There was no obvious reason for her to be in trouble, so she shrugged and did as the note said.

"Come in, Miss Reid!" the professor called as she stood nervously by the door.

She nodded and stepped in.

"Take a seat."

"I'd rather stand, but thank you professor," she replied.

"Fair enough," he moved away from the pile he was grading. "Is this your first college course, Miss Reid?"

"Yes, sir." There was no emotion in her voice.

"And how old are you?"

"I turned fifteen in October, sir." Another cold statment of fact.

"Are you taking high school courses as well?"

"No, sir. I received my high school diploma in December."

"You're a little young to be graduating high school, aren't you?"

"My legal guardian graduated at twelve, sir." She no longer called Spencer her half-brother in public anymore. It was easier then explaining her mother's death, or the FBI, or Vanessa, or Blake, or Des or…

He changed the subject. "Miss Reid, I am surprised you were paying attention in my class. Usually the students in the back get the lower scores, not the highest."

Merci didn't respond. The pride she once had in her intellect was long gone. She got out of high school and signed up for a single college course without Spencer's permission. It was all she could afford with the allowance she had been saving. It wasn't Georgetown and it defiantly wasn't medical school, but it was a start.

Since Merci hadn't spoken, the professor continued. "I'll admit to not wanting to pry, Miss Reid, but are you sure you want to attend college at this point of your life?"

Merci finally spoke. "That isn't really your business," she spat. "See you on Monday."


	20. Chapter 20

"Merci?" Spencer asked, coming into the apartment. All he could hear was music. This was normal; Merci didn't seem to like to fall asleep in silence. "Are you awake?"

The girl came out of her room. "You're home early."

"Do you want to go to dinner with the team?"

"Do I have to?" she asked.

He was pleasantly surprised that she whined. Usually, she just ignored him. "I don't know when we'll get called out again, and you haven't seen them in a few weeks. And Garcia has something for you."

"Fine, I'll go."

"I'll have the lemon chicken and a Mountain Dew," Merci said with a soft smile. "Thanks."

"Okay!" Garcia said after a brief silence. "Present time!"

Merci took the small bag. "Thank you?"

"Well, open it," Morgan said.

She gingerly pulled a small black box from the bag and slowly opened it. "Wow." It was a necklace, a rusty antique key hanging off a piece of thin brown leather. "Is there some significance behind the key?"

"There was case before Rossi returned and Prentiss joined where the unsub said the 'youngest holds the key'. You're younger then Reid."

"So, I'm a honorary member of the team now? Or is this some lame attempt at me making less moody? Because I'm pretty sure Henry is about thirteen years younger than me."

The team shared a brief glance. "I told you she was going to act like I did at her age," Prentiss sighed.

"I'm just as good as you are at predicting human behavior. It comes from years of sitting on the edge of the room and just watching. What else do you want to try?"

"And you want to be an MD?"

"No, I've switched my major to Anthropology."

Spencer looked at his sister in shock. "When were you going to tell me this?"

"It's not any of your business, brother _dearest_," she snorted. "I'm taking an introduction course down at the CC and then I'm going to utilize my scholarship to Georgetown. Can I be excused? I need to use the restroom."

"Sure…" Spencer said slowly.

"Thanks." As soon as he started to speak, she got up and ran toward the ladies' room.

"What am I doing wrong?" Spencer said, more to himself then the others.

Morgan clapped him on the shoulder. "It's a start, kid. You got her out of the house."

Merci stared at her pale reflection in the mirror. She had already started shaking and could feel hot tears in her eyes. Someone knocked (it was a one-person bathroom). "Just a minute!" she called, hoping her tears weren't obvious.

"MJ, it's Prentiss. May I come in?"

Merci unlocked the door and slowly opened it. "I can't do this anymore, Emily," she sobbed, stepping back. "The nightmares won't stop."

Prentiss quickly shut the door behind them and hugged the tall girl. "It's okay. Let it out."

"I want to forget," she whimpered, circling her wrist with her hand. "But I can't. It's impossible. Spencer does even act like he's been through what's happened to him."

"Reid is 13 years older than you, MJ." She pulled back from the girl. "Why are you holding onto your wrist?"

Merci visibly increased pressure, although no worry showed in her tone or face. "No reason."

"Alright, MJ," Prentiss said, keeping her tone even. "I'll give you a few minutes."

As soon as Prentiss left the room, Merci wrapped some paper towel around her wrist and covered it with her jacket sleeve.


	21. Chapter 21

Prentiss walked back to the table and pulled on Spencer's arm. "Reid, I need to talk to you."

"Alright..." Spencer replied slowly.

"Outside," she said firmly.

He got up. "What? Is Merci okay?"

She looked at the rest of the team and whispered in an emotionless voice. "I think she's been practicing self-mutilation."

Spencer sank back into his seat. "No," he mumbled. "I can't do what I did to my mother. She's able to function normally."

"Avoiding contact is not normal, Reid," Rossi said. "When did you last share a decent length conversation with her?"

"Oh…" he said slowly, as if finally realizing she hadn't said more than few words since that day in the hospital. "But what can I do? She's fifteen."

"Talk to her."

Spencer attempted to talk to Merci the morning after dinner when she came out of her room to pour herself a cup of coffee. "Merci, can we talk?"

"Sure," she mumbled, sitting down and taking a large chocolate muffin off the table. "What's wrong?"

"Can I—may I—should I see your wrists?"

Merci stared at him. "What?"

"Agent Prentiss noticed—something. I just wanted—wanted to make sure you weren't—well—that you weren't hurting."

Merci grabbed her right sleeve and pulled it up. "There's nothing there, Spence."

"You're right-handed," he said suspiciously

Merci quickly moved both her hands under the table. "It's not any of your business, Spence. It's Saturday. Don't you have some college lecture to give?"

"No. I thought maybe we could go see a movie or something."

"I don't like movies."

"We could try a book store," Spencer offered. "Is there anything you want to do?"

"Not really," she said with a shrug. "I would like to get a haircut though. Maybe buy some hair dye."

Spencer stood at the entrance of the salon. Merci had been inside for about an hour. She came out, her hair short, spiky, and blonde with green tips. "Hi."

"Whoa, Merc…That's _different_."

"That's what I wanted. Colleges don't have dress codes or uniforms. I've been wearing my hair the old way for six years. It's time for me to actually be a teenager. Just with more books."


	22. Chapter 22

Merci slowly knocked on the door. A younger boy, who she assumed was Jack, opened it slightly. "Dad, there's a girl with green hair here!"

Hotch came to the door and he said, "Hello, Merci. What brings you here?"

She spoke quickly. "Well, Prentiss can't keep a secret. I don't want to worry Garcia. JJ's busy with Henry. I don't know Rossi well and Morgan scares me. You don't have any emotions, thus, you were the logical choice."

"Jack," Hotch told his son. "Please go to your to room." The boy did. "What's wrong?"

"I did it once and now every time I look at my arms, it's all see. I keep doing it. I can't tell Spencer because I'm afraid he'll send me away. I just want to stop!"

"Stop what?"

"Hurting myself!" she screamed. "I keep imagining the blood dripping down my arms and I want it to stop! Eventually, I'll want to see someone else's blood dripping down them instead! I just know it!"

"Merci, slow down."

"I can't hurt anyone, Agent Hotchner! I'm not like that! I don't want to be a killer or anything!"

"Merci!" She continued babbling. "MJ!"

The girl jumped slightly, clearly startled. "Sorry," she mumbled.

Hotch poured her a cup of coffee (you know the Reids; they love their caffeine) as she sat down. "Start at the beginning, MJ."

And so, she did. By the end of it, she was just as hysterical as before. "You _have_ to help me, Agent Hotchner. I'm tired of hiding this."

**Short, I know, but guess what. Happy birthday to me, Happy birthday to me, Hey look, I'm nineteen!**


	23. Author's Note

Hey, you guys! It's KL and this is not an actual chapter of any sort! I'm pasting this identical note on every single WIP (Work in Progress) fiction I have. Writing _Defining Merci_ (FYI, it's a Criminal Minds fiction) had pushed my mind into a v. dark place and even my college professors are noticing. Therefore, I have decided to not write anything for Merci for a least a month and choose only one not as dark fiction to write that entire month and post one chapter a week.

That is starting in July. For the rest of June I'm not writing anything, but I am putting a poll up so you lot can choose what fiction I focus on for July Here are you choices:

_Progress_, sequel to _Stuck_, a Bree Twilight fiction

_Darkness Always Comes: the Diary of Felicity Anne Peachflint_, an Original Character Harry Potter fiction

_Dark Moon_, a True Werewolf Twilight fiction

_Denying the Moon, _a True Werewolf Twilight fiction

_Little Moon, _a True Werewolf Twilight fiction

_Falling in Love on the 3__rd__ floor, _a Spencer/OC Criminal Minds fiction

I will not count review only votes. You use poll or not get counted at all. Also, it will be a blind poll.


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N: I'm back… :)**

Spencer stared at his sister, and she looked up at him, eyes red, swollen, and looking hollow. Before she could speak, Hotch pulled him into the kitchen. "Have you considered your options, Reid?"

"What do you mean?"

"You agreed to take custody of MJ to prove that you were a better parent than your father but he may be better equipped to handle a teenager then you are right now," Hotch whispered firmly. "Are you capable of getting her the help she needs?"

"What do you mean?" Spencer asked, although he did not need to be told. He knew what Hotch was about to say.

"MJ is a suicidal young girl who fears she may become homicidal. She's sick, Reid. Do you want to be the one that has to sign the paperwork?"

Before he could reply, they heard a door slam.

Merci had heard every single word, and couldn't beat hearing them. Hotch was telling her brother to send her away, not that there was hope. She got off the couch and left, slamming the door behind her. Her feet took her to the nearest chapel.

She couldn't go in. It didn't feel right. She had always been Catholic, but in that brief moment, it felt wrong. She kept walking, eyes on the pavement and hands in her pockets. Hotch had betrayed her trust. There was no one else for her to talk to. She had no friends and no faith. She couldn't even step inside a place she used go to every day.

Something inside of her had changed. Whatever made her believe was gone. The Spirit—or whatever it was—was gone. It was so gone; it was like it had never been there. She hadn't felt this alone since, well, ever.

"Excuse me," she apologized as she stepped between two well dressed young men walking the opposite direction. About five steps later, she tripped, falling painfully to her knees and scrapping the heels of her hands. The young men stopped walking and turned.

"You okay?" one of them asked.

Merci looked up, and automatically stumbled back. They were Mormons. She'd know that wrenched name tag anywhere.

**Elder Jameson**

Church of

**Jesus Christ**

of Latter-day Saints

"I'm fine," she said hotly, pushing herself off the pavement with a wince. "Thank you."

"Merci!" Spencer ran up to them. "Do you know how difficult it is to find a teenager with green hair in this town?"

"I wouldn't know, Spence," she replied sourly, rubbing her palm. "Let's go home. I need an ice pack."


End file.
